Category Archives: Princess of no Kingdom

We are swiftly reaching that 365 days mark that makes everyone go momentarily insane, believing that they can suddenly be a different person and live a totally different life on day 366 😂. #Newyearnewme and all that hoopla. Then by February, Valentine’s day will come and strip us of all the sense we managed to acquire. It’s the circle of life I guess, why fight it?
So, if you are wondering what outrageous resolution to make from January to March, and you have no idea, don’t worry let me help you small. We can cheat small, using the things that 2017 tried to teach us but some of us weren’t listening.

Resolution 1: Pledge Not to Sexually Harass Women in 2018

Women are sexually harassed every day. It’s not a Harvey Weinstein problem or a Hollywood problem or a Donald Trump problem. As a wise man by the name of Trevor Noah said, sexual harassment and sexual assault is a man problem. So maybe as a guy, when you are planning to change for the better for the next few months, how about giving women a break from your wahala for a while. We would really appreciate it. You can talk to your friends, so it’s like a nationwide guys movement #MeninistsNG . Who knows, after a few weeks, you might like how it feels to get a woman’s attention without imposing yourself in her space.

Resolution 2: Working Remotely is Now the Default Option

They say leaders should lead by example right? Who is our leader? President Bubu. What does he do? He works remotely. Nigga was chilling throughout most of the year and sending us postcards of his enjoyment and he’s STILL President. He came back and as an IJGB he couldn’t handle the Nigeria again and he decided to cry “rat”. Even at some point, we had both President and Acting President, in same country!

President Bubu was just like ” please, I cannot come and go and kill myself”. So… Why should you? Are you better than your President? Resolve to live your best life this coming year my nigga. Don’t let work kill you. Work from home, take a freaking vacation.

Resolution 3: Too Much Wokeness Causes Insomnia

Still in the mood of I cannot come and kill myself, let me ask you, all this your wokeness, who e don epp? Did you get any bank alat? Your mates that have been sleeping, didn’t they still reach the end of the year with you? The only difference is that you are reaching the end of the year carrying another person’s headache.
Let’s leave all this trans-age, trans-self, trans-sense things behind us. Wokeness to the point of disturbing ancient spirits and traditions? If they are not chasing you, why are you running? Relax please, life is not that serious. At the end of the day, we all die…so don’t be the one to kill yourself.

Resolution 4: Be Your Own Cheerleader

Every year that passes, we show again and again that we care so much about people’s approval to the point of losing self-worth. No boo, blow your own trumpet and they will follow you.
No need to keep retweeting your picture for more likes. No need to tell lies just to retweets. No need to ruin your friendships for likes. People’s affirmation don’t make you and if we’re being honest, no matter how much attention you get in that moment, no one really cares about you. We’ll move on to the next interesting thing. So what have you gained?
Do better in 2018

Resolution 5 : Feminists Are Not The Enemy

Imagine you write a test and you’re sure you did really well. The results come out and your score is pretty bad. You check other people’s answers and they all wrote exactly what you wrote but were given better scores than you. Wouldn’t you want to take it up with the teacher? Does you getting a better score affect that of those who scored well? No. This is just an example of the inequality and discrimination women face and are fighting against. And instead of getting support, everyone is busy trying to invalidate our claims. Trying to change the conversation to cooking arguments and paying for the date arguments. Or misquoting scripture and implying that God that created man, both male and female is a misogynist.
Why though? us getting equal treatment doesn’t affect you. We are human just like you. We work just as hard, just in different ways, yet you expect us to accept less reward and take it quietly?
In 2018, do us a favour, whether you are male or female, you may not agree with cause, but you really don’t have to oppose it either. We aren’t trying to take what is yours, we just want our fair share.

Resolution 6: The Only #goals You Need is To Do What Actually Makes You Happy.

Some of your mates are millionaires. Some of them have the cutest boyfriend/girlfriend. Some of them are married. Some of them are slay-queens. Some of them travel around the world on a whim. Meanwhile, you are still trying to figure your life out. When people ask you “so what are you doing these days” you cringe and now you are letting the pressure of trying to reach #goals push you into making stupid decisions.

You don’t have it all figured out, we are all working on different timelines. There’s no rush, we all shine in different ways at different times and that’s okay. The best way to move forward is to compete with yourself, not others. Try and beat your own record and you’ll see yourself making progress every day.

2018 is another year. It might be amazing, it might not be. That’s not pessimism, it’s just fact. All in all, as long as there’s life, there’s hope. Man makes plans and resolutions but it’s God who makes things come to fruition. So, for me, my mantra for the year is simple: In God I Trust. You can join me if you like.

2017 has been another wild rollercoaster ride, I’m looking forward to another one. See you on the 2018 side.

PETITION FOR THE INCLUSION OF CERTAIN NECESSARY PROVISIONS IN THE NIGERIAN CONSTITUTION

Provision 1: Jollof at parties

We hereby request that the official party food be officially identified as Jollof Rice. Party planners are allowed the privilege of deciding the garnishments to accompany the Jollof. Party planners may also offer other forms of food. However, the ratio of Jollof to other meal types should be no smaller than ratio 5:1.

Also, all Jollof Rices must have evidence of the party flavour i.e bay leaf. Otherwise, it is considered to be in violation of the Jollof Rice law.

Provision 2: Meat at the end of the meal

The official order of meal consumption is every other food group first, protein last. Nigerians are not permitted to eat proteins in the beginning or in the middle of the meal. Such an act should be considered unNigerian and must be punishable by future protein deprivation.

Provision 3: If she vomits she is pregnant

Within the Federal Republic of Nigeria, it is vital that we recognize several means of pregnancy testing. However, the officially recognized pregnancy test which should be considered valid and admissions in the court of law is abrupt vomiting by any female who has reached the age of puberty.

Vomiting is an especially valid sign of pregnancy if it happens mid-sentence. Once a female within the specified age vomits, no further testing is necessary. The pregnancy is confirmed.

Provision 4: Don’t spend clean money

In our great republic, spending any naira note that is still “mint” should be prohibited. Should the case arise that a citizen has no other note in his/her possession, such a person has the right to go begging for dirty notes. Spending of new notes is not permitted under such circumstances.

New naira notes are only to be used for two purposes. First, for the purchase of new items of a high calibre. Second, new notes may be used when sprayed at wedding ceremonies. Any other use outside of this is to be a punishable offence.

Provision 5: Friyay Native Attire

Every Friday is a national holiday from the slavery that is Western clothing. Thus, all true citizens of the Federal Republic of Nigeria are to be clad in “trad”. Violation of this is to be tagged as mutiny and conspiracy to recolonize the country. Such a person is to be ostracized.

Persons exempt from this law are neighborhood lunatics and local law enforcement officials. Which, if we are being honest sometimes make it difficult to know the difference.

Provision 6: NEPA will take light if it rains

We request that in order to reduce the disappointment and hopefulness levels of the citizens of the republic, an official provision should reflect the following; During a thunderstorm or a drizzle, there will be a sustained power outage, which will only be resolved within 1 hour of the rains’ dissipation.

This law also applies to all areas within a 30km radius of where the rain is actually falling.

Other provisions for due consideration include:

Items in the market are worth half the original stated price

The official TV station at all banking halls is CNN

The freshness of a loaf of bread is to be verified by the act of squeezing said bread.

Indicator lights are not valid. One must “trafficate” with their hand or be ignored.

Thank you for taking your time to consider our petition. We are open to your feedback and criticism. The aim is to ensure that the constitution reflects the true nature of “We, the people”. If there are any additions you would like to make do let us know in the comment section below.

Wouldn’t you love to have a BellaNaija wedding? To have that Valentino dress, make everyone jealous and all the ladies want to be you? Wouldn’t it be nice to have all your money troubles disappear? You can do things at your own pace from a point of comfort. Or maybe you’re just tired of sharing the bills and having to understand his financial situation. Baby, you know things are tough right now.

Girl, you deserve the best in life! Sometimes, you might not just be so lucky to have it happen to you by accident. So go seek it out. Go and find the love of your life that will pamper you will luxury. He might not be hanging out in your usual circle. So…you have to find him in his.

There are a few places in Lagos that are known to be where your future bae hangs out. Most of these places are in Lagos Island, so you might actually want to consider moving there -if you don’t already. Keep reading for a cheat sheet on landing a life of wealth.

You are seeing the trend right? Rich men like to hang out in hotels in Lagos. But not just any hotels, the high-rise ones with expensive rooms. Just stroll in, talk to the receptionists, hang around the lobby and flirt. You never know you might get lucky.

You are probably thinking, “Is it not the same shoprite I go to every day?” No, it isn’t. There’s Palms Shopping Mall and there’s Palms Shopping Mall. You need to open your third eye. There are several lounges in the mall you’ve probably never thought of entering. You should. Your future husband is there.

Compared to Elegushi Beach and Oniru Beach, Atican Beach is probably not considered popular. But… it’s one of the Island’s best-kept secrets. It’s private so you can easily walk into a rich young man looking for some relaxation or maybe a group of rich friends just hanging out.

7. Lekki-Ikoyi Bridge at 6 am

Women are masters at multitasking. It is a known fact. So why not make it worth your while. You can stay fit and meet the love of your life all at once. Here’s how to do it. Wake up in the early am, dress in really nice up-to-date sportswear. No hair net, no hair rollers. Pack that thing is a cute ponytail. Look your best but make sure it’s effortless. You want to give the impression that you woke up like this. Now jog across Lekki-Ikoyi bridge, but not too hard, you have to look like you are floating with every step.

When a car headlight approaches, look unbothered. But also observe the caliber of the vehicle coming your way. It’s the very first impression that counts in this case. You may not meet your Mr. Right the first time, but if you are consistent, you’ll get noticed.

Go to the wedding looking like a “Slay Mama”, make sure you walk around a lot so he can get several views of you. There’s always that one guy at the wedding that catches your eye and if the wedding is on the Island, then your chances of catching a sugar bae increase exponentially.

La Mango is arguably the most talked restaurant and bar on the mainland. So of course, rich men like to go there. They also particularly love its outdoor seating, it’s breathtaking poolside and the rooftop terrace. Do you know what this means for you? You can wear your swimsuit and show off your best assets.

Like I said about The Palms, these malls are not to be underestimated. Look beyond what you see.

14. Zenbah

This is one of the most expensive cocktail places in Lagos. You know what that means. No further explanation needed.

15. New Age Churches

Elevation Church, House on the Rock, COZA, Guiding Light Assembly and all the “New Age Churches” are the in thing now. What’s better than a rich man who enjoys the presence of God?

There you have it. You’ve got all the tools. Now go forth and prosper. Don’t be selfish, share this with others. You will need a wingman when you go to these places anyways. Please invite me to your wedding, this advice is not for free, I want to eat party rice.

Good day Ladies and Gentlemen,
How has life been? Good? Well me too sha, I’m fine.. But not entirely. I’ve only been adulting for like two minutes now and I’m already tired. I miss those primary school days when we used to buy fan lolli for N20 and the mallam would cut it into 2 with scissors.

You spend all your life literally looking up at adults and saying, me too, ama be like that one day. Talking bout whe I grow up, this, when I grow up, that. Little did you know that you were swearing for yourself. If you could take it back now, wouldn’t you rather be in primary 1 reciting your two times table?

You know adults are actually wicked. They teach you to walk and talk. They tell you to read your books, pass your exams and become successful. They buy you nice things when you get 1st position in class or take you out for ice cream when you make them proud. But never do they ever warn you about the danger ahead.

*CHILDREN BEWARE: ADULTING IS HARD*

But no, for real, I can’t think of anything as evil as the conspiracy to trick all humanity into embracing adulthood. I mean, whose idea was it? I’m only asking for a friend. There are so many things I wish I had known on time. Maybe I would have stopped growing. But now it’s too late.
Here’s a terrifying list of things about adulting that no one ever told you. In descending order of “horrificness”.

5. All your first position and first class, is pure water.

The only other thing Nigeria parents always say, apart from “you cannot greet abi? “, is make sure you get first position or make sure you carry first class. Or the savage version “the people that have a 5.0 gpa, do they have two heads?”

So if you are like me, and you were hitting above average scores throughout your academic career, you graduated hoping that you would just manage small, and get a good job with your slightly-above-mediocre grades. But alas, no one if it matters.

At my current work place sef, they never asked me for my CV, talkless of my GPA. I’m just imagining, if I had joined those two headed people, and carried the scores of everyone in the class, by now I would be upset with life. Even if my colleagues are first class graduates, and we are earning the same peanuts together.

So I mean, if you haven’t graduated yet and you’re killing yourself over best graduating student, my advice is to relax your navz. You go dey alright.

This is Nigeria, we will all look for the jobs together, only for the politicians’ children to take it from us. Besiiiides, you are 99% not likely to use that your rubbish certificate anyways. You will wake up one morning and someone will say they are looking for ushers, social media managers or something any basic human being can quickly learn. Then, before you know it, that is your career. So no need to grow two heads.

4. The weekend is a what? A scam

So you go to work 5 days a week. For some of us, 6 days. The weekdays are so designed to having you anticipating a non-existent break.

You know what I mean. This is the way a typical week goes;
Mooooooooooooondaaaay
Tueeeeeeeeeeesdaaay
Wednesdaaaay
Thursday
Friyay!
Sat*blink*Sun
Mooooooooooooondaaaay

You will sit at that your office desk, dreaming of your turn up and weekend enjoyment, only to end up looking for sleep half the time. Me, I spend most of the weekend catching up on chores. And cooking!

As you lay your head to siesta on Sunday afternoon, just forget it, the next reality you will wake up to is you getting dressed for work and entering back into the madness.

3. Uncles and Aunties stop giving you money to buy fanta

The greatest joy of my childhood was those times someone would come to visit my family in our house. Those visits were tedious. They would send you up and down; go and buy drinks for your visitors, fry prawn crackers, serve the food, present yourself as a responsible child, give them your sweat and blood. It was a lot of stress, but it always paid in the end.

Somewhere between when the guests get up from their seats and when they leave your house, they would reach into their pockets and bring out “money for sweet or Fanta” and discreetly place it in your hands.

I used to have this uncle that always gave me 2,000 naira in 20 naira notes. Those days when 20 naira was paper not polymer. Looking like Benjamins. I’d sit seriously and be counting my fortune in excitement.

But now, this same uncle… What does he do everytime he’s leaving after a visit? He smiles at me and says “..ah Princess, when will you be inviting us to eat party rice? That your bride price, me and your daddy will share it oh!”
Please sir, how does that one affect my account balance?

2.There is no holiday

You go to school and study and write exams and go on holiday abi? So when you are suffering at least you know there’s enjoyment around the corner. But then imagine that you had to write exams everyday, for the rest of your life, without a course outline, or anyone teaching, without a break to look forward to.

That my friends, is adulthood.

There’s no summer break, no Christmas break, no mid term. It never goes off. “The school of life” is constantly in session. 366 days 24/7, till the day you die, you will continue to adult.
If you like, go on leave, or take whatever break, fall into a coma. When you open your eyes, adulting will be waiting for you.
It only gets worse as the time goes on.

1.You have to spend your own money

I think the greatest shock for me was having to buy my birthday things with my own money. Like… no break? Even on my birthday?
For real, adulting has taught me to dream within my budget. Can’t be thinking about frivolous things like Chinese food, new clothes and random uncalled for dashing of money to professional beggars in the street. Even single 10 naira comes from your account.

Those days we used to scam our parents and collect money for “handouts”, “excursions” and “convocation dues”, loooong gone. If you ask my father for money now, he will remind you of the cost of your 16 years of education plus inflation. Before you get that money, you will sign an undertaking that states that you are a child and will hereby be treated as such. (Daddy, if you read this I’m exaggerating oh. Biko).

You know you are an adult when 10 naira debit alert in the name of “card maintenance” annoys the hell out of you. Like do these banks think we pluck money from trees?

Me that has been saving money for a new phone for so long. But every month, one thing or the other would come up and my akant would just be giving me side eye. It’s the same me that access bank is collecting 200 naira from every month. Isn’t that wickedness?

Worse still, you are no longer entitled to student discount at the cinema. That 500 naira you would have used to buy popcorn. They will make sure they collect it from you. If you are like me, you’ll sneak in 80 naira bottled water from Shoprite into the theatre. Drink that one and dey alright.

If you’re reading this and you haven’t started adulting yet, please take it from me, stay in school kid.

I’m sorry about last night. I love you too. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just panicked when I saw the ring. I know you meant every word you said while you were down on one knee. And I really truly feel those things too, I just freaked because I love you but I haven’t told you everything.

You see there’s this huge secret I’ve been keeping. And as much as I want to be yours forever, it wouldn’t be fair to you if I said yes. You’ve loved me and all my baggage. I’ve always wanted to tell you. From the first day we kissed I wanted to tell you. But I was scared that you wouldn’t want me. I was scared that you would run.

Baby, the truth is I’m sick. And I have been for quite some time. And it’s not curable; if you want me forever then you’re agreeing to deal with this forever.

It started when I was 12. One day at my school assembly, my legs buckled. I lost control of my body. I lost control of my mind. One moment I was standing at attention and singing the anthem, the next moment I’m rolling around in the dirt and scream and shaking and crying. I lost consciousness that day but I never forgot it.

Moments later, I woke up in the sick bay and I had turned into a circus act. I opened my eyes and met many eyes staring at me. None of these eyes held worry, none of them held concern. The nurses and the teachers and students, they all started at me with a mixture of fear and condemnation. That morning I had woken up a normal prepubescent happy healthy child, but by noon I was a freak.

The school authorities had me sent home. I tried to explain what happened to my parents. But how could I put into words what I couldn’t understand? For weeks after that day, I had tremors in my hands. I had trouble breathing. Trouble sleeping. Trouble thinking. I was afraid that I might have another episode and I was filled with anxiety trying to prevent it. Trying to prevent something I didn’t understand the cause of.

My parents took to see doctor after doctor. I took test upon test. There was x-raying and blood taking .At one point I got hooked up this machine: the one they show in the movies where they stick wires in the head of the lunatic. I sat in my chair, with wires in my head, trying to remember what my mind was like before. Trying to trick the machine to believe I was well.

But yeah, that didn’t work.

They called it a seizure disorder. Epileptic seizure disorder.

My parents prayed and prayed. They called pastor after pastor. Hands layed on my head. They shook me till my head nearly came off its socket. I kept having attack after attack. Triggered by nothing at all. Lasting sometimes as long as 30 minutes. Then after the attack was the after shock tremors and tossing in my sleep.

My life changed when I was 12, and really I haven’t recovered from that.

I never went back to that school again.

But still, I suffered this stigma. No matter how many schools I went through, I’d have an episode and people would see me differently. They’d whisper names like Ogbanje, witch, some said I was possessed. Once I had a crush on this guy and he embarrassed me in front of my class. He yelled “Don’t come near me, I don’t want that thing that you have ” and the class burst into fits of laughter.

In all honesty though, what scared me the most wasn’t what outsiders said. It was my parents. It was how they said “This thing is an attack from the devil and we will fight it” and they said I needed to have faith or I would never be healed. They refused to buy me medication for a very long time. The problem was me, I didn’t have enough faith. I didn’t pray hard enough. I didn’t mediate on healing scriptures well enough. But I did. I prayed my heart out. Many times I’d be praying in church and I’d breakdown in tears. But somewhere along the line, I did accept it as my testimony. I would live with this thing and still succeed. And when I tell my story it would amaze the world.

As I grew older, something became less severe. It never went away though. Somewhere along the way, I was rediagnosed with an anxiety disorder. They believed my condition had evolved somehow. It had become more predictable, more manageable. To be honest, I don’t believe Nigerian doctors. I still intend on having myself examined when I have money for specialist doctors.

So by my university years, I could feel an episode before it started and I would go and hide and wait till it passed. Few people ever saw me have an episode. But I carried my scars with me.

I told no one. And those who happened to see me, I gave explanations that would satisfy their curiosity but never the full story.

I found it hard to make any real connection with anyone. My condition, it coloured all my friendships and all my relationships. So I stopped telling people and I’ve never wanted to tell anyone till I met you. But I was afraid

So I told myself, I’d see if things got serious before I said anything. And even when things between us progressed as it did, I kept putting it off telling you. Because I was afraid.

I AM afraid.

And I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you this. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I want to be yours forever.

I want to wake up to you everyday.

But I couldn’t say yes when I had this baggage I hadn’t shared.

I’m sorry baby. I’m so sorry.

Do you still want me?

Do you still love me?

*********

Dedicated to all those who suffer silently. All those whose scars are invisible. You are not alone. And you will find happiness

This year has been one of the most uncertain of years. Many of my friends will understand.I mean, after going to school your whole life, 2016 comes and says “I will take out the ground from under you… careful, don’t fall”

It was this year I realized I don’t have talent, the only thing I can do is read book and speak English and it’s not as if I am a first class student. But you know what I’ve always taken comfort in… I have always been sure that I am a fine girl. Not only that, but also I can pass for Oyibo.

Let me just say, my new name is Humble.

You need to understand, this is not my first time out of the country. It’s not even my first time travelling alone, but in my previous sojourns to obodo oyibo, I was carefully blanketed in this tight knit Nigerian community.

So now, I live by myself, go to work by myself and I’m surrounded by all these people from all these different places. You cannot imagine my culture shock. Sometimes I just want fold my arms and say “Chai!”

Quick side note; I am very ashamed to say that out of the 4 random guys that have walked up to me to start unsolicited conversations on the road, 3 of them have been Nigerian. You people have no shame

So anyway, to my greatest disbelief, I have discovered that I am not oyibo. At aaaaallll.

You see, my nose maybe pointed, but it does not point in the same direction. I maybe skinny but my African assets are very distinguishable….If you know what I mean. My accent is not like Jenifa but they still squeeze their face when I talk. I may not be able to dance skelewu but to these people, I’m Usher.

I suffer from a serious case of confused identity. I belong to nobody.

Another great discovery, I’ve made is that as an “African”, I am meant to be a walking encyclopaedia of all things Africa. Yes people, Africa is still a country and we all know each other. I mean, Mandela and my grandfather used to play Ayo together.

I have been asked “What’s the capital of Chad? “, “When will they bring back the girls?”, “Do you know Nana from Ghana?” and a slew of others. I have decided I will answer any future questions of this sort with every ounce of sarcasm I can muster.

That’s how two of my colleagues were discussing about living in Liberia and one of them asks me how much it would cost to rent an apartment in Monrovia.

Sister, is your suit alright?

Another thing that my home training is having a hard time adjusting to is going to work in the morning and greetings my mother’s age mate “Hi”. This one lady walks up to me and says “Oh My God, you look so much like my daughter!” So we get talking and then she proceeds to give me her card and says “Call me Mandy”. Not even Amanda. Every time I say her name, I imagine my mother giving me that look like “You will see when we get home”

But honestly, I can deal with all these things, if those were the only factors. But of course, there’s more.

It pains my heart that whenever someone invites me for a BBQ or something and the person is like I should bring food.

A couple of weeks ago, I was invited to this “Ghana” party. It was supposed to be live, with afrobeats music and food of course. That was the most important thing. So it took me 2 trams, one bus plus a 15 minute walk to get to this thing.

My first shock was that the party was not on the road. But you know, it’s obodo oyibo, so I forgot that side. Then, as I was getting closer to the venue, I wasn’t hearing loud tungbatungba music and I was like warrisdis, I hope I have not miss road? I had to enter inside before I could hear any music. But that was no even the betrayal.

As soon as I landed there, I greet people, I’m like how far, where the food at? They point me to the place, plenty people where gathering and making noise. I was like mad mad…the food must be sweet. Only to get there, someone gave me menu, and I was seeing some magic things

It’s a Monday morning and you are a man. You and your wife, wake up this Monday morning. You both leave the house together. But you’re a man, so your morning routine is simple. Take your bath get dressed, eat your breakfast and go. Your wife on the other hand, because she’s a woman and it is “her duty”… she wakes up earlier than you. She is a woman, SHE must see to the children. SHE must prepare the meal. Yet somehow she gets all this done in time, to have you and the children satisfied and still manage to look put together.

You will tell me it’s the way things are supposed to be.

Yes, she is the mother of your children. Biology says she carries the children for 9 months, biology says she breast feeds, biology says she’s generally better at multitasking, biology says her children will have an easier bond with her.

THAT is the way things are supposed to be.

Anything that comes after that, is a man made stipulation. Everything else was determined by society. And in Africa, society is and has been for a long time a collection of MEN.

So back to my scenario.

You both go to work together. You both work hard. She maybe even works harder. But society says…she’s a woman so she earns just enough to keep her motivated but not what she deserves. You and your wife come back home after a long Monday. You get home generally at the same time. Maybe she works in a bank on the island, so she even gets home later.

But you are a man, so you get home and take a nap and wait for her. She will sort out dinner. Or maybe you don’t nap. You decide to watch some news…or maybe even pick up your laptop; continue your work, pursue your career. You’re a man.

Biology did not say, but still somehow she is supposed to do “her duty”. So her work never ends, she is somehow supposed to sustain a career and keep you happy. Because society says. And you’re man.

But my dear, biology said nothing about that.

I did not come here to continue the twitter rant. I just want to point out a trend.

I want you to know that all of this is why Africans will not move forward. We are an entire continent full of a unique race with beautiful and creative minds. Soaking up education like a sponge, holding steadfast to our belief in a sovereign God despite everything we are faced with. Yet we are toxic to ourselves.

A while back, Ugo and I were tackling one random African American guy on twitter when he started talking crap about Africa… but now I think about it and realize that he had some valid points.

Because how can a continent so blessed and so gifted have the intellectuals and religious leaders and political leaders and the common people alike still holding on to poisonous and absurd standards about stipulated roles and ill-conceived differences.

“This is the way things are supposed to be”

Yet the whole world around us has changed. Almost literally, the ground as been taken away from under us. All that’s left is quick sand and we keep struggling. We’re killing ourselves.

A couple of decades ago, your wife could never work in a bank, or become a doctor or wake on a Monday morning and say “I’m going to work”. So if we could let that change…what system are we using to pick and choose our realities ? Who decides these things

Everything changes. Everything evolves.

We live in a world where Trump may become President. A 15 year old girl won a Nobel Prize. People carry their phones around and chase Pokemon but that’s not strange. I post something on the blog and the whole world can see it.

One of the first memories I can recall was at a relatives wedding when I was probably not more than 4 years old. I was one of the little girls on the train. Wearing as much makeup as was acceptable in the early 2000s for a toddler. With my hair all gelled up and you know… Telephone wire on fleek.

I remember everything was fine till they gathered the wedding party together and said “Say cheese”. I suddenly became really grumpy and whiny.
“Mommy, I want to wee wee”No wait, smile nau.
“I want ice cream”This girl, behave yourself.

So I proceeded to ‘squeeze face’ through out the whole thing.
I’ve actually gone to look back at a lot of my toddler pictures, I’m either turning my face away, making terrible faces or wearing a very forced and pathetic smile. And you know, it’s not really a problem when you are a toddler in 2002 and you only have to take pictures at special occasions given the chance that you are lucky to find a photographer. It’s all well and dandy but then we arrive at 2016…

LITTLE ME WITH THE FUNNY FACES

It’s like eeeeeeveryone in my generation enrolled a special selfie-taking, camera-posing training course before we came to earth from heaven while me I was busy learning how to find obscure music and form a lopsided smile.

Constantly posing for Close Up

I buy a new amazing looking dress and wear make up that would make Ghunu proud but no one knows about it. Because I can’t show it. Because if I take a picture my greek nose turns arrow like and my smile is too exaggerated. Or my posture is too awkward.

Every day people say things like, “have you ever considered modeling?”, “you could be a pageant queen”. I just smile because people don’t seem to understand. The cameras of the current era have not attained the level of sophistication to capture the essence of the Princess of No Kingdom. Maybe once in a blue moon, the light hits my face at an angle that permits the masses to partially glimpse the glory of my aura. But you know what the thing about blue moons, extremely rare.

It’s all the more glaring when you people and you constant obsession with photographing every little moment. Omg, I woke up in the morning *snap*. My friends came to see me *snap*. I went out to buy food *snap* I got a new haircut *snap*. Yes we know you travelled abroad and you have an iPhone 7x and that you have a girlfriend that looks like Megan Fox. We have heard enh… It’s okay.

This last week was torture for someone like me. See me really trying to induce blue moon for 7 days straight. But who am I? I am not God I can not control the lights of the world. I nded up getting really really tired, to the point that I actually went to hide for fear that I would impale the next person that said “Can we take a picture together”

Spot the beast

Oh really?, so you can look like beauty beside the beast? You people are very wicked, you’ll still post the picture even though it spoils my market. God bless you, be on your way.

At this point, I am very aware that there’s not much I can do for myself. The only hope I have is in early detection of this disease in my children.

Key.

Till then, don’t be angry if I use one avatar for 6 months, I’m just waiting on that darn blue moon; I only pray that it shines on my wedding day.

See, I know it’s not just me these things happen to. Or at least I hope I’m not alone. Sometimes I wonder, is there something wrong with me?… I mean, what is on my face that makes these riffraffs grow balls and approach me.

A whole me, Princess Adaeze Ilonze one… Ka umu ofia na ko akuko.

O di kwa shameful.

There are honestly too many instances to count. I’ll just be on my own walking the streets of Lagos, minding my business, then one miscreant will just appear from nowhere and be harassing me for my number as if when God was creating me, He wrote my name on their body.

And do you know what is even more painful? My name is Princess… so when they are shouting different things “Angel”, “Baby”, “Queen”… I will hear “Princess”, just to turn by reflex. Which is the worst thing you can possibly do in that situation. Once you make eye contact, your own have finish be that.

So last year, I was interning in Ikoyi and since my daddy is not a Lagos big boy, a girl must take public transport. So one of these days, I got stuck in traffic on the Island so much that, I left the office by 3 and got to Oshodi a few minutes to 7. It was already getting dark, normally, I’d wait for BRT but at this point I just needed to get home. So instead of BRT, I entered Mass transit.

For those of you who don’t know, Mass Transit buses are buses that are around the size of BRT but not Lagos owned. Slightly different from Molue buses, as Mass transit is not painted yellow and black. Basically, they pack too many people inside. There’s no leg room, people are standing, everybody’s rubbing against someone, people beg for money , preach pray & hawk stuff in there… cure for cancer for just N150 .

So I boarded this bus, sat in the seat behind the driver. That is how a small commotion started. The bus driver and the conductor both started disturbing me.

“Ah baby, you fine oh… how oyibo like you dey this kain yeye bus” “Ogbeni shut up, who you think you be, wey dis angel go dey talk to you. Abeg aunty no mine am. But im talk true, person wey fine like you, no suppose dey here. In fact, no pay… just give me your number, after that wan, no need to pay again”

This went on for a while as other passengers were boarding. Eventually, the whole thing ended with me giving the both of them the phone number before we even started the journey. The conductor’s name was Deji and the driver’s name was” E.Z”.

So remember there was a lot of traffic. So at every point, when the traffic slowed to a long stop, E.Z would look over his seat to be talking to me. Asking me if I wanted gala, should he play some music for me…blah blah. Sometimes, he’d call me on the phone just to talk and I tried really hard but for the life of me I didn’t understand 80% of what he was saying because somewhere along the line he started faking one nyama nyama overcooked indomie accent. . He asked me where do I work, that he can be bringing his bus to my route so that I won’t have to pay for transport anymore. People of God, that is how bus that was originally supposed to stop at Iyana Ipaja ended up driving to Abule Egba. Once I got down, he called me on the phone again and asked me to let him know when I got home safe.

So yes, that is how, I got home without spending a dime.

Of course he called me a couple of times, but obviously… after like 30 missed calls, he stopped.

This is just one out of my many many Lagos stories.

Comment if you want to read some more.Plus, do share your own stories ladies

Also… plix plix and plix, ugotalksalot.com is looking for writers… do apply if interested. It doesn’t even have to be in English.